


• Dinner Plans •

by ShesGoneRogue



Series: Visions of Crema [5]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Charmie - Fandom
Genre: Armie gives up trying to be good, Blow Jobs, Come Feeding, Come Swallowing, Come play, Dirty Talk, Light D/s undertones, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Thirsty Timmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 22:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14724761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShesGoneRogue/pseuds/ShesGoneRogue
Summary: Plot? What plot.Oh, okay then.Timmy wants.That's it.Enjoy ;)Oh and - this is another one of those 'giving in for the first time' fics. *shrugs* What can I say? I have a thing...





	• Dinner Plans •

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm forever grateful to my amazing beta and dear friend @sexualthorientation for her awesome skills and bomb suggestions -- especially on this one which I kinda sprung on her. (she was kind enough to drop everything and play in my sandbox for a while today or you guys would still be waiting)

"What the fu—" Armie yanks the towel back and swipes rivulets of water off his forehead, blinking in confusion as a rush of cool air fills the steamy bathroom only to find Timothée is standing there in the open doorway.  
  
"I'm not late, am I?" he asks, glancing at his watch on the edge of the sink.  
  
"Nah," Timothée replies, his eyes fixed on the widening expanse of furry chest as Armie's motions cause his fluffy robe to gap open.  
  
"Then what—" Armie turns back to ask what's going on and sees that Timothée has already stepped in and closed the door behind him. He looks flushed. Distracted.  
  
"Hey—you OK? You look a little...weird," Armie says, thinking about the long day of shooting behind them.  
  
Timothée makes a strangled little noise, reaching up and self-consciously pulling at the curls on the back of his neck before a soft high-pitched whine escapes him as his eyes travel the length of Armie's body down to his bare feet. "Ah, fuck it," he suddenly growls, surging forward and shoving Armie back against the shower door.  
  
Armie is momentarily stunned, his eyes going wide and hands flung out before he catches Timothée by the shoulders. His mouth is so hot and demanding on his throat it takes his breath away.  
  
"Tim, wait! What's going on?" He half-heartedly pushes him back when what he really wants to do is pull him even closer.

"I'm kissing you," Timothée answers breathlessly, his eyes glazed and unfocused as he moves back in for more.  
  
Armie can't help but tilt his head back to offer more of his neck. It feels so damn good. His hands relax and slide down Timothée's arms, around to his lower back. "But--why? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but where is this coming from?" His words sound distracted in his own ears, like it's really more of an afterthought to even ask at this point.  
  
"Fuck, man—does it matter?” Timmy’s eyes are wide and bright. “We've been crawling all over each other for days. Can't we just...I just want—"  
  
Armie gasps and nearly doubles over as Timothée's hand unexpectedly slides down and grips his cock through the plush velour of his robe in the same instant that his teeth sink into juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Oh, shit!" His hips buck forward. He's hard in an instant.  
  
He moves one hand to the soft curls at the back of Timothée's head, holding his mouth to him as he reaches down with the other and encourages him to squeeze with a soft, pleading moan. "You--you sure about this, T?"  
  
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life,” Timothée answers without hesitation, teeth scraping over tightening muscles.  
  
"Jesus, Tim. You've got me so hard already...fuck," Armie half moans, taking control of Timothée's hand and pulling it inside his robe. "Touch me," he rumbles quietly.

Timothée moves up and nips at his jaw line, stroking him gently. "I can do better than that." He slowly drops to his knees, tugging Armie's robe open as he goes. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?" His pupils are blown, wet lips already swollen and plush pink from the roughness of Armie's stubble.  
  
"Tell me," Armie pants, both hands now tangling in Timothée's curls as he looks down at him with unabashed need.  
  
Timothée ducks down and nuzzles his face beneath Armie's cock, letting the length of it drag across his smooth cheek as he closes his eyes and inhales his scent with obvious relish. "Since the first rehearsal," he confesses in a heated rush of breath.  
  
Armie laughs softly with a tinge of disbelief. "That was, like, two hours after we met." He pets his curls gently, still trying to wrap his mind around what's happening.  
  
"Mhmm," Timothée hums, his eyes opening slightly to meet Armie's as he pulls back, planting soft kisses along the underside of his shaft the whole way. His hands slide up, fingers closing around him as he reaches the tip with his mouth.  
  
"Do you want me to suck your cock, Armie?" he whispers, teasing, every syllable exhaled softly right against his already dripping slit.  
  
Armie shudders, his breath hitching as he watches a bead of precum well up and touch Timothée's bottom lip, stretching into a glistening strand as he smiles up at him. "Yes, please," he manages.  
  
"Say it."

Something in Timothée’s tone sends a delicious shiver down Armie’s spine. He drops his head back against the shower door with a dull thud. "Fuck, T... Suck it. Suck my dick—please." He's desperate now; all the feverish dreams of the past several weeks culminating in a sharp ache that won't—that _can't_ —be ignored any longer.  
  
Timothée laughs softly and waits for him to look back down again, then flattens his tongue and drags it across the tip, tasting him before slipping his lips around the crown with a positively indecent moan.  
  
" _Jesus_..." Armie whines softly, his fingers flexing in Timothée's hair. He pushes forward just a little, starving for more, daring to test the limits and see how far this will go now that the floodgates have been opened. "Tim... Just like that...yes. Goddamn, you look so good taking my cock. Can you take it all, baby?" he croons.  
  
Timothée sucks harder in acknowledgment, his eyes flicking up and beginning to water as he sucks him deeper still.  
  
Armie's ass clenches a little, hips thrusting ever so slightly. He slides one hand to his cheek to feel Timothée's jaw widen as he reaches his limit. "Damn, baby. Where did you learn to do that?"  
  
Timothée makes a little sound resembling a laugh and pulls back with a hum.  
  
"Are we gonna chat, or can I just suck your dick?"  
  
Armie really laughs this time, the absurdity of the situation sinking in as he watches his cock bob obscenely two inches from the playful twist in Timothée's perfect pink lips.  
  
"Yes, sir. Shutting up now." Armie grins, blushing a little.

Timothée grins and licks the head of his cock like a lollipop, then drags his eyes up in a blatant flirt, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he strokes him with long, firm tugs.  
  
"Hmm…no, don't shut up. Just don't ask questions I can't answer. I want to hear your voice. Talk to me. Tell me what you like." He leans forward and sucks softly at the crown again, his eyelids drooping seductively. "I'm so fucking hard for you, Armie," he whispers, flicking his tongue lightly over the frenulum before sliding back down.  
  
"Show me,” Armie tells him. “I want to see."  
  
Timothée smiles up at him from his eyes, playing his tongue against the underside of his cock as he obediently lets go with his hands to reach down and undo his fly. He licks all around him as he pulls himself out, slender fingers tightening around his own shaft as he brings one hand back up to cup Armie's balls.  
  
Armie stretches his neck to look down, trying in vain to see Timothée's cock around his bobbing head. He can feel his mouth tighten around him again as he watches his shoulder move with the strokes he's giving himself. "That's right...play with yourself. God, that’s so fucking hot. Suck it. Harder. Oh fuck, Tim, your mouth—" he hisses in a short breath through his teeth as his cockhead bumps the back of Timothée's throat.  
  
Timothée pulls back sharply, gasping as he narrowly avoids gagging. He licks his lips and looks up at Armie, a feverish glint in his eyes and drool dripping down his chin. "Come in my mouth, Armie," he pants before dropping back down in a slick rush, his hand already a blur on his own cock.

Armie moans and shifts his hands to the sides of Timothée's face as he bobs faster and faster. His head drops back and he begins fucking into his mouth when Timothée makes little encouraging sounds around him. He can feel the hot coil in his belly threatening to unravel, but before he can even form the words to warn him, Timothée is crying out around his cock as his own release shoots in hot arcs over Armie's feet.  
  
"Oh fuck, baby—Tim... Yes, come for me. So fucking...look at that. God, you're so fucking hot," he babbles softly, lost in the intensity of watching Timothée let himself go—something he never thought he'd actually get to see outside of his dreams.  
  
Armie holds his head still and leans to the side to watch Timothée's hand milking the last few spurts from his slick cock. His heated breath shuddering over the sensitive head of his dick as he whimpers through his orgasm is one of the most erotic moments Armie has ever experienced in his life.  
  
Timothée looks blissed out, his mouth slack and eyelids flickering as the pleasure races through him, his hand slowing down and squeezing as the last drops pool on the floor beneath his swollen head.  
  
"Yes. Stay just like that...fucking gorgeous." Armie breathes, moving one hand from Timothée's cheek to stroke himself to completion as he watches him still kneeling there, visibly shuddering with his mouth open and eyes half-lidded.  
  
It takes all of three strokes to get there.

In the instant the first ragged hitch catches in Armie's throat, Timothée's eyes widen and he opens his mouth bigger to receive the first surge. Armie intentionally misses and paints Timothée's pretty face in glistening white ribbons, jerking himself hard and slapping the underside of his cockhead against Timothée's full bottom lip as his come shoots all the way up into his hair.  
  
Timothée whines and tries to move to catch it on his tongue, but that just makes Armie more determined to make a mess and force him to chase it. "You want it? You want my come?"  
  
Timothée mewls pitifully, releasing himself to grab Armie's hips possessively.  
  
"OK, baby...OK. OK." Armie relents and pushes his cockhead between Timothée’s lips and watches it disappear into his mouth as the last few dribbles of semen leave him in weak spurts.  
  
Timothée laps at him hungrily, savoring every drop he can pull from him as Armie's breath hisses softly from clenched teeth.  
  
His hips pump slowly, dragging his length in and out of Timothée's mouth in a languid rhythm as he watches in a euphoric haze. "Do you want more?" he asks softly, his fingers already gently gathering the splatters from Timothée's cheeks and eyelids.  
  
Timothée looks up at him and nods dreamily, pulling back so that Armie's cock bounces free and makes way for his dripping fingers.  
  
Armie's licks his lips and opens his own mouth to mirror Timothée's as he slowly pushes his fingers inside and feels his tongue strip them clean of come. "Fuck, T...you're a mess."

Timothée grins around his fingers and blinks slowly before pulling off with a soft pop. "Maybe we should tell Luca we're not gonna make it to dinner tonight."  
  
"Hmmm..." Armie hums lazily "And what grounds should we give for our notable absence?"  
  
Without missing a beat, Timothée smacks his lips and grins cheekily. "Rehearsal, of course. He'll be so proud."


End file.
